Tales from the Bonding Universe
by GreenSage
Summary: Episodes from Obi-Wan's childhood at the Temple with Qui-Gon. Written in Anne Higgins' Bonding Universe. COMPLETE
1. Author's Notes

Some notes from the author:  
  
The AU in which these stories occur is not my original creation. That honor belongs to Anne Higgins, who is kind enough to let other authors play in her sandbox. If you wish to read the rest of the stories that she and other authors have written, you can find them here:   
  
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Cafe/2564/bonding.html  
  
Obi-Wan as a young Initiate has captured my fancy, but there are stories written about him all the way from birth to adulthood on the above-listed site.  
  
Disclaimers: Not mine. No money. All hail the mighty Lucas. Thanks and much praise to Anne Higgins for creating her wonderful Bonding Universe and allowing other authors to write in it.  
  
I've posted the chapters roughly in chronological order, though that's not set in stone. None of the individual chapters require you to read any of the others for them to make sense. They are all stand-alone episodes, and they are:  
  
Hugs  
Pairing: Q/O; Rating: G; Categories: Alternate Universe, Pre-Slash  
Summary: A little bit of gentle fluff. Young Obi-Wan takes care of his bondmate.  
  
Bedtime Story  
Pairing: Q/O; Rating: G; Categories: Alternate Universe, Pre-Slash  
Summary: More fluff. A thunderstorm brings out the best in two young Knights. Featuring a guest appearance by Mace Windu  
  
Kisses  
Pairing: Q/O; Rating: G; Categories: Alternate Universe, Pre-Slash  
Summary: Yet more fluffiness. Obi-Wan learns a lesson.  
Huge thankyous to Amber and Jacynthe for their very helpful betas.   
  
The Old Master  
Pairing: Q/O (kinda); Rating: G; Categories: Alternate Universe, Pre-Slash  
Summary: Obi-Wan makes a new friend.  
  
Of Computers and Closets (ficlet)  
Pairing: Q/O; Rating: G; Categories: Alternate Universe, Pre-Slash  
Summary: Qui-Gon's computer bites the dust. Written during the whole archive incident.  
  
To The Rescue  
Pairing: Q/O; Rating: G; Categories: Alternate Universe, Pre-Slash  
Summary: Obi-Wan saves the day!  
  
Oops  
Pairing: Q/O; Rating: G; Categories: Alternate Universe, Pre-Slash  
Summary: Adventures in babysitting! 


	2. Hugs

Summary: A little bit of gentle fluff. Young Obi-Wan takes care of his bondmate.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Qui-Gon was tired. Tired in his bones and tired in his soul. He'd gone on a solo mission, supposedly an easy jaunt to Vraxis II to witness a coronation. Of course, nothing was ever that easy. He'd had to single-handedly hold off a band of armed rebels while the largely ineffective palace guard got over their surprise enough to respond, then hunt for and extract the young crown prince from the clutches of dissidents who were opposed to his coronation. Qui-Gon was already tired of holding entire planets together all by himself, and he was still young, not yet thirty. It was enough to make a man think seriously about attaching another padawan, just to get a break.   
There was a muted thump as his shuttle docked at the Temple. It was the dead of night, Coruscant time, and it made him feel like he was slinking home in disgrace when actually he'd managed to salvage what he could of a bad situation. He sighed and prepared to debark after thanking his pilot. He just wanted to fall into bed and sleep for a week, but the Council would doubtless summon him at first light.   
~~~~~~~~  
Obi-Wan came awake all at once. He listened for a moment, thinking some noise or commotion woke him, but the crèche was quiet and still. He frowned. Then a smile broke over his little face. His Quigee was home! He glanced furtively at the Crèche Master's desk, but it was empty. Obi-Wan scrambled out of bed and padded to the door. With a tweak of his mind that he'd learned from his bondmate, he deactivated the lock on the crèche door and crept outside. His bare feet pattered against the floor as he followed the sense of his bondmate through the drafty Temple.   
Quigee was tired. Tired and a little...sad. What the little boy really meant was discouraged, but he didn't have a word for that, so 'sad' would have to do. Well. He would have to fix that sad feeling. That's what bondmates are for, after all, to make things better.   
He shivered as he ran through the halls. It was cold, and he hadn't stopped for robe or slippers when he'd bolted from his bed. That was okay, though. Quigee would keep him warm.   
~~~~~~~~  
Qui-Gon shouldered his pack and trudged down the landing ramp intent on going straight to his quarters and collapsing into bed for a few hours of blissful unconsciousness.   
The doors leading from the landing pad to the Temple proper swished open as he approached, and the sight that greeted him halted him in his tracks.   
His little bondmate had drawn himself up to his full four-year-old height, ignoring his own shivering, and was arguing stridently with the guard on duty to be let out onto the pad to meet his Quigee. The guard, not exactly sure what to make of a crèche waif who wanted out and was willing to fight for it, tried his best to get the little kid to go back to bed. He was on the verge of ringing for a Crèche Master when the doors opened to admit Master Jinn.   
"Obi-Wan?" he blurted incredulously. How had the little one known he was home, and more importantly, how had he found the landing pad by himself?   
"Quigee!" the little boy shouted.   
There was a rush of tiny feet, and a small, sturdy body catapulted into his arms.   
"What are you doing out of bed at this hour, Little One?"   
Little arms locked around his neck in a death grip. "Came to see Quigee. 'Cause you need hugs."   
Qui-Gon chuckled, to the guard's amazed regard. He snuggled the boy closer and wrapped him in his robe to keep him warm. "Do I? And what makes you think that, Imp?"   
Obi-Wan looked up at him with eyes that were far too wise for one so small. "Tired. Quigee is tired in here." One little hand thumped against his chest, right over his heart. "And sad. Hugs fix. Hugs make Quigee's heart happy again."   
Said heart constricted painfully as Qui-Gon tucked Obi-Wan under his chin and stroked the silky red-gold curls. Such heartbreaking empathy from such a young child...it nearly undid him completely. "Oh, my beautiful little imp, whatever would I do without you?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.   
The curly head came up again. "Be sad lots," Obi-Wan answered seriously. The little face brightened. "But you have me. Always have me for hugs an' happy stuff."   
Qui-Gon chuckled fondly. "Indeed. I'm so glad we can share 'hugs and happy stuff,' Imp."   
The curly head nodded against his chest. "Me too, Quigee," Obi-Wan sighed happily. "Share everything with you someday. Then you won't be sad anymore, right?"   
"Never sad with you, Obi-Wan."   
The little boy's face threatened to split in two, first with the dazzling smile he flashed at his bondmate, then with the cavernous yawn that reminded Qui-Gon of the late hour.   
"Come, my imp, we must get you back to the crèche so that you can go back to sleep."   
A wave of stubbornness and obstinacy flashed along their bond. "No!"   
"Yes," the Master said sternly. "It's time for little boys to be in bed." He suited actions to words and started walking through the temple, heading for the crèche.   
Obi-Wan scowled fiercely. "Yucky bed does not need me. Quigee does." Little arms and legs wrapped themselves around him as far as they would go. Obi-Wan clung like a creeper vine, obviously having no intention of releasing his bondmate.   
"Quigee needs more hugs. I am GOING to stay with you. So you feel better in here." Another emphatic thump on his chest, accompanied by a Most Serious Pout.   
Qui-Gon gathered himself, preparing to admonish the boy with his best Stern Jedi Master voice and expression and deposit him in the crèche whether he liked it or not.   
Obi-Wan saw it coming. He might be only four years old, but that didn't mean he hadn't learned a thing or two. He deliberately widened his eyes, allowing tears to fill them. He thought about spending the night away from Quigee, and his lower lip trembled. He allowed his thumb to creep slowly to his mouth, where he sucked it nervously.   
Qui-Gon caved. He had absolutely no defense against the little thumb- sucking manipulator when he was like this. He sighed. "Oh, very well. I'll comm the Crèche Master and tell her you'll be staying with me tonight."   
Little arms and legs tightened their grip. "Yay!" Obi-Wan shouted loudly in his bondmate's ear. "More hugs for Quigee. Feel all better in the morning."   
Qui-Gon chuckled ruefully as he entered his quarters. It was a good thing he never had to deal with legions of four-year-old imps on his missions. Never mind the armed rebels and fractious warring clans -- they were easy to handle. Big-eyed, curly-haired, thumb-sucking, manipulative children were harder to defeat than the Sith, for Force's sake.   
He wouldn't have it any other way.   
Qui-Gon paused at the wall comm unit. "You go wait for me," he said to Obi-Wan as he set the little boy down. "I need to call the crèche, and then I'll be in."   
"'Kay." Little arms seized him tightly about the knees in a parting hug, and then little feet pattered off towards the bedroom.   
Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master and one of the Order's finest warriors and diplomats, then shame-facedly informed Crèche Master Aronna that her young charge had bested him yet again and would be staying the night in his quarters. Aronna made a valiant but unsuccessful effort not to laugh and shooed the young Master off to bed. It was, after all, well past time for both little boys and big boys to be asleep.   
Task completed, Qui-Gon strode into his bedroom. Obi-Wan was waiting by the bed, not yet tall enough to climb in without help. Qui-Gon turned back the blankets.   
"Up you go, Imp," he said as he boosted the boy into the bed, then climbed in after him. Obi-Wan immediately squirmed onto his chest, clasping little arms loosely around his neck.   
"Go to sleep, Quigee. I'll take care of you." A small hand softly stroked his long mane.   
"Yes, you always do, my imp. Thank you." Qui-Gon wrapped his arms around the little boy, taking comfort already from the slight, warm weight curled trustingly against his chest.   
"Love you, Quigee. Always."   
"I love you too, Obi-Wan."   
Qui-Gon didn't even have time to wonder how or when his young bondmate had figured out how to use the Force to induce sleep before he surrendered with a sigh. He dimly noted that Obi-Wan followed him down into slumber, still holding him tightly.   
Fin 


	3. Bedtime Story

Summary: More fluffiness. Obi-Wan learns a lesson  
Notes: This fic is for Julia, whose delightful feedback on my first two Bonding Universe stories also included a plot bunny that grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let go.  
  
//...// = bondspeak  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Qui-Gon came awake suddenly and blinked for a moment in sleepy disorientation. Just back from a mission, he was exhausted enough to sleep like the dead, and he wondered what could possibly have the power to pull him from such a profound slumber. His quarters were abruptly illuminated brighter than a desert noon, and a tremendous clap of thunder followed closely after.  
  
Qui-Gon blinked again and frowned. Something didn't quite fit. He struggled to get his sleep-addled brain to focus. There was a reason why an electrical storm felt out of place. He just couldn't remember...ah, yes. This was Coruscant. Placid, weather-controlled Coruscant. There weren't SUPPOSED to be any electrical storms here. The sizzling bolt of lightning that flashed through the air and the sonic concussion that rattled his window told him that 'supposed to' meant precisely nothing on this particular night.   
  
Fully awake now, a disgruntled young Jedi Master rolled out of bed and padded out into the common room of his quarters. The message light was blinking on his data terminal. He sat down and keyed up his messages. There was a note from a good friend back in-Temple for awhile - he'd have to get in touch with J'trell while she was on-planet. The second message was a...GROAN...Council summons. No doubt they'd be shipping him out again soon. The third message finally gave him the information he was looking for. From the Coruscant corps of civil engineers, it explained that the weather control grids were malfunctioning. The problem would be fixed by morning, but residents should expect electrical storms for the duration of the night and should remain indoors if at all possible.  
  
Qui-Gon sighed as another thunderclap shook the Temple walls. Just delightful. Well, he supposed that if he was going to be awakened in the middle of the night, he might as well take advantage of it and get a midnight snack. He shrugged his robe on over his sleep pants, smoothed his long, loose mane into some semblance of order, and left his quarters in search of some food. While en route to the refectory, he ran into several other similarly attired, sleepy-eyed Knights who were obviously on the same quest. His eyes settled on a tall, broad-shouldered form with a shiny dark head a short distance in front of him.  
  
"Mace!" Qui-Gon called out to his friend.  
  
The Knight turned around. "Qui? That you?" Dark eyes eventually found his yearmate as Qui-Gon hurried to catch up with him.  
  
"Mounting a raid on the kitchens?" Qui-Gon asked with mischief in his eyes.  
  
"If you help, I'll give you a share of the takings," Mace ribbed.  
  
"Done," Qui-Gon replied with a nod.  
  
Upon arriving in the refectory, the two young Knights prevailed upon one of the night duty cooks for tea and some of the sweet fruit dessert left over from the evening meal. Qui-Gon and Mace lingered over their tea, reminiscing about some of their first missions together and their wilder misadventures. It was almost enough to make Qui-Gon forgive the engineers who lost control of the weather grids on one of his few nights back at the Temple. Almost.  
  
They were laughing about a particularly embarrassing incident with a noblewoman on Karell when Qui-Gon suddenly lurched to his feet.  
  
"Qui?"  
  
"It's Obi-Wan. This must be the first electrical storm he's ever experienced. He's petrified, and he's trying to shield it from me." Qui-Gon reached out and wrapped his young bondmate in a comforting Force embrace.  
  
The abject terror leaking along the bond lessened a little, but did not fade completely.  
  
//Are you well, my imp?// Qui-Gon sent, concerned.  
  
//Yes, Quigee.// Obi-Wan's mental voice was tremulous despite his valiant attempt to cover his fear. He knew his Quigee was tired. He just got back from a mission, and he needed to sleep. Obi-Wan was determined to be a big boy and let his Quigee sleep. Besides, Jedi do not fear. Usually.  
  
//Are you frightened by the storm, Little One?// Qui-Gon's mental voice was gentle.  
  
Silence. //Is the Temple going to fall down?// the little voice finally quavered.  
  
Qui-Gon's focus snapped back to Mace. "I've got to go to him. He's too scared for this to work long distance."  
  
Mace sighed. "Go on, Qui. He needs you."  
  
Qui-Gon turned to leave, then reconsidered. He swung back around to face his friend. "You know, all the kids in the crèche are probably terribly frightened by the storm. I could use some help, if you aren't in a hurry to get back to bed."  
  
Mace considered that for a moment. No one was more astonished than he when he responded, "sure."  
  
Qui-Gon blinked in surprise, then grinned at his friend as they started off towards the crèche amid more earth-shaking claps of thunder.   
  
//Hold on, Obi-Wan, I'm coming.//  
  
//I'm okay, Quigee. You need to sleep,// the little voice said bravely.  
  
//I couldn't sleep through the storm either, Imp. You're not keeping me awake. I'm almost there.//  
  
Obi-Wan's brave front collapsed. //Th-thanks, Quigee.//  
  
The two young Knights entered the childrens' wing and were assaulted by the strident sounds of screaming infants. Crèche Master Aronna was pacing the hall, a squalling baby in each arm, trying to get them to stop crying. The harried woman glanced up as Mace and Qui-Gon came around the corner.  
  
"Master Aronna?" Qui-Gon was concerned when he saw the Crèche Master's haggard face.  
  
"Sorry, Master Jinn, Knight Windu. The children are all dreadfully frightened by the storm. Most of my assistants are working with the infants, and those that aren't are taking care of the young toddlers. Three of my people have come down with the Sorollan flu, and I just don't have any free hands to spare for the older children," she fretted. "They must be terribly afraid, all alone in there and no one coming to see to them..."  
  
She broke off her worried rambling and fixed the two young men with a quizzical stare. "What are you two doing down here at this time of night?"  
  
Qui-Gon looked faintly sheepish. "Obi-Wan is frightened. I was with Mace at the time, and, well..." he trailed off.  
  
"I came along because Qui thought the rest of the children might be afraid." Mace grinned. "Figured he could use some backup."  
  
Aronna nearly sagged with relief. Ask the Force for help, and it sends the cavalry. "Oh, would you? I feel just awful that there aren't enough people in here tonight to take care of the older children."  
  
Qui-Gon hastened to reassure the older Master, whose tiny charges were screaming even louder. "Consider it done, Master. We'll look in on the older children for you."  
  
Preoccupied with the noisy infants, Aronna simply nodded and resumed pacing, trying to soothe the babies enough to make them sleep.  
  
Qui-Gon and Mace reached the doors of the crèche where the older children slept and entered the darkened room. Another blinding flash of lightning illuminated the rows of narrow beds, each holding one small, terrified occupant. Had the kids been any less scared, the two Knights might've laughed at the comical scene. Some of the children had buried their heads under their pillows, trying to shut out the deafening thunder. Others were huddled in small, trembling balls with the blankets thrown over their heads. Still more were clutching stuffed toys with their eyes screwed tightly shut.  
  
Qui-Gon unerringly found Obi-Wan's bed. The little boy was lying ramrod straight and rigid on the mattress. His eyes were wide open, and he was shivering uncontrollably.  
  
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon whispered.  
  
A red-haired streak of lightning erupted out of the small bed and attached itself desperately to Qui-Gon's torso, burrowing into his robe and away from the storm. The little boy's shivering intensified.  
  
"Q-quigee!" he choked out, trying very hard not to cry as the walls shook with the storm's power.  
  
//It's all right now, my imp. I'm here, and I'll keep you safe.//  
  
//P-promise?//  
  
//With my life, Little One.// He tightened his embrace. //It's just a storm. It won't hurt you.//  
  
Across the room, one of the other children whimpered. Mace left Qui-Gon's side and went to comfort the frightened child. After a moment, he returned with one child in each arm, and a third clinging desperately to his leg.  
  
"You were right, Qui. They're all scared stiff. We've got to do something about this," Mace said, genuinely anxious about the children.  
  
"We could try and put them all under, I suppose. Though with this racket, they probably won't stay asleep."  
  
"You're right about that, but I don't know how to help them any other way, do you?"  
  
Qui-Gon shook his head worriedly.  
  
A curly head peeped out of Qui-Gon's robe. "You could tell a bedtime story," Obi-Wan whispered. "I sleep better when you tell me stories."  
  
Qui-Gon smiled wryly. Trust the little imp to come up with a solution where two Knights were at a total loss. He glanced at Mace, who nodded and shrugged as if to say 'well, what do we have to lose?'  
  
Qui-Gon surveyed the rest of the large room. "Is everybody awake?" he asked quietly. A variety of frightened noises answered him. "All right, then. Anybody who wants a bedtime story, follow me and Knight Windu."  
  
A tremendous rustling of sheets heralded the mass exodus from beds as twenty-five terrified children clustered around the young Knight and Master. Qui-Gon and Mace headed for a corner of the room which was left open as a play area. They sat on some cushions, their backs to the wall. Almost immediately, small bodies filled their laps to capacity, and more huddled against their sides and all along their legs.   
  
Qui-Gon still held Obi-Wan securely in his arms, lightly stroking his soft, curly hair. He thought for a moment, and then began to speak, weaving an epic tale of ancient warriors and their monumental battles against evil monsters, telling the children that the thunder was the noise of their eternal struggle. The warriors kept the monsters away from the Temple, and the flashes of lightning were the glow of their lightsabers as they kept the Jedi safe.  
  
Qui-Gon's quiet, deep voice spun the tale until, one by one, their little charges all dropped off to sleep, lulled by the rolling cadence of his resonant tones. It wasn't long before he and Mace surrendered to the arms of Morpheus, as well.  
  
Several hours later, Crèche Master Aronna emerged from her rooms into the merciful quiet of the pre-dawn crèche. Her heart leapt into her throat for a moment when she saw all the empty beds. Surely, the storm hadn't frightened her charges into fleeing the crèche...had it? Surely not with Mace and Qui-Gon here to comfort them. Her eyes darted around the room, and she smiled with relief and mild amusement. There, in the corner of the room, two of the Order's finest up-and-coming Knights sat, propped up against one another and sound asleep under a heap of slumbering children.  
  
Chuckling quietly, Aronna decided to let them all sleep on. It wasn't every day, after all, that she actually had a chance to enjoy her morning tea without a half-dozen little hands tugging at her robe. She looked toward the corner again, her gaze focusing on the Jedi Master and his young bondmate. The picture they presented tugged at her heart; even asleep, a gentle smile graced Qui-Gon's face as he rested his cheek against the silky curls of the little boy nestled so trustingly against him.  
  
Aronna summoned two of her assistants, and together, they levitated the children back to their beds, all except Obi-Wan whom they couldn't extract from his bondmate's embrace. Aronna shrugged and floated the pair over to Obi-Wan's bed while another of the Crèche Masters settled Mace onto a spare pallet. Aronna smiled gently as she tucked the blankets around the young Jedi Master and his little imp. Sometimes, her charges still needed mothering even after they'd grown beyond her care.  
  
Some time later, Qui-Gon's eyes came open slowly, responding to the suggestion of his internal clock that it was past time for him to be awake. He looked around, puzzled. He wasn't in his quarters, and the bed he was sleeping in was about a foot and a half too short for him. He pushed that assessment away for a moment. There was something important he had to get up for, something... Oh, yes. Council meeting. He inhaled deeply, preparing to stretch his long limbs, and promptly sneezed when fine strands of coppery hair tickled his nose. A small head popped up, startled into wakefulness, and grey-green eyes blinked drowsily at him for a moment.   
  
Qui-Gon's memories came rushing back. He remembered the storm, the chat with Mace, then their trip to the crèche, and the bedtime story he'd told to help the children sleep. He smiled at the sleepy little boy who peered at him from within the folds of his robe.  
  
//Sorry to wake you, Imp. Did you sleep well?//  
  
//Mm-hmm,// Obi-Wan responded absently as he wriggled closer to his bondmate, making himself more comfortable on Qui-Gon's broad chest.  
  
Qui-Gon felt a ridiculously silly grin spread over his face as he stroked his little imp's back gently.  
  
//Quigee?// Obi-Wan's mental voice was endearingly soft and somnolent.  
  
//Mm?//  
  
//Tell me 'nother story?//  
  
Qui-Gon chuckled. Sith fly away with the Council meeting. The rest of the world could wait. This was more important. 


	4. Kisses

Summary: More fluffiness. Obi-Wan learns a lesson  
Notes: Huge thankyous to Amber and Jacynthe for their very helpful betas. They did a great job, and any mistakes left over are all my fault.  
  
Bond-speak is represented as follows: //...//  
~~~~~~~  
  
Qui-Gon sighed happily as he floated serenely in the middle of the cottage's private lake, taking in the sweet, green scents of early summer. He was on vacation. He tried the idea out again. On. Vacation. Had a nice ring to it. He wasn't sure what exactly had possessed the Council to give him a break, but he wasn't about to tell *them* that. Without waiting around for them to change their minds, he had packed himself and his young bondmate off to Rasa, a popular resort world. Qui-Gon was close friends with Rasa's Senator, and he'd obtained permission to use the man's summer home for a week. Lush surroundings, pleasant climate, and no impending disasters to defuse. Ah, bliss. He savored the feeling of having nothing to do but soak up the sun, the peace, and the quiet, and enjoy some downtime with his Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon sank beneath the surface of the cool water, swimming languidly for a moment. At length, he stood up in the waist-deep water, rubbing water out of his eyes and squeezing it out of his hair. The idyllic calm and quiet of this place was doing wonders to restore his center. Hmmm. Suspiciously calm and quiet.  
  
A faint sense of unease flashed along his bond with Obi-Wan just before a startled yelp suddenly rent the air. Qui-Gon spun around to see his five-year-old bondmate sailing through the air, swinging on a vine like a jungle creature and heading straight for him.  
  
"Quigeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Obi-Wan's warning came to late.  
  
"*Oooooof!*" Qui-Gon didn't have time to get out of the way, didn't have time to stop the little boy's rapid, swooping approach. A small bundle of arms and legs careened into his midriff, knocking the wind out of him and sending both Jedi Master and Initiate tumbling into the water.  
  
Qui-Gon surfaced, coughing and spluttering, and instinctively reached out and grasped the little boy by the back of his swimming shorts. Obi-Wan was pulled from the water and dangled, dripping and upside down, from one huge hand. He giggled as his bondmate glared balefully at him through a curtain of waterlogged hair.  
  
Qui-Gon tried his best to stay annoyed. Apparently, his giggling little imp had been climbing trees. He fixed Obi-Wan with his patented Stern Jedi Master Glare, which he was dismayed to note only made the boy laugh harder.  
  
"Well?" Qui-Gon demanded imperiously.  
  
Another delighted giggle sparkled in the warm, still air. "Sorry, Quigee. I was climbing the big tree over there, and I slipped. I grabbed the vine to try and stop falling, but... Well, I didn't *mean* to hit you, honest!"  
  
Qui-Gon simply stared at the little boy for a moment, not sure whether he should be annoyed or worried out of his mind that his bondmate had tried climbing the tree without first making sure that Qui-Gon was paying attention. It was a huge tree and stood out easily among its fellows. Its grey trunk stabbed towards the sky and great limbs arced out over the water. The end of the vine now dangled in the water, hanging limply from one of the branches. Something in the Jedi Master shriveled when he realized how very tall the tree was and how very lucky his bondmate had been. Force, the child could've fallen to his death!  
  
Obi-Wan still hung from his bondmate's hand, water dripping from his coppery curls into the lake. He was sure Qui-Gon meant to put him down, really he was, but he hadn't really grown into these shorts yet, and...   
  
"Um, Quigee?"  
  
Too late. With a squeak, Obi-Wan dropped out of his shorts and plopped into the water, leaving a somewhat bemused Qui-Gon holding the empty swimsuit.  
  
A mischievously grinning face surfaced. Qui-Gon regarded the swimming shorts in his hand, and then raised an eyebrow at the imp in the water.  
  
"I *did* try to warn you. You weren't listening," Obi-Wan said helpfully.  
  
Qui-Gon cleared his throat and handed the shorts back to his bondmate. Obi-Wan wriggled back into his swimsuit underwater. He turned back to Qui-Gon to find the bearded face about two inches from his own, indigo eyes snapping.  
  
Yikes. "Quigee?" he squeaked, putting on his Most Innocent Face.  
  
"Don't *ever* do anything like that again without telling me first. You could've been killed." Qui-Gon's tone wasn't sharp or angry. It was...softer. Worried. Afraid.  
  
Obi-Wan heard that soft undertone in his bondmate's voice and realized that this was not the time to weasel out of trouble. He planted a kiss on Qui-Gon's nose. "Promise, Quigee. I didn't mean to scare you. I was pretty scared, too."  
  
The red-headed scamp suddenly looked so very young and small. Qui-Gon hauled the boy into his arms. "You gave me quite a turn, Imp. I'm glad you're not hurt. Just be more careful, okay?"  
  
Obi-Wan's trembling body burrowed against his damp chest, one small ear settling over his heart. He held the little boy close, realizing that Obi-Wan was probably having a delayed reaction to his madcap plunge towards the lake. Obi-Wan shook harder.   
  
Qui-Gon pressed a kiss to the curly head. "You're all right now, Obi-Wan. I've got you."  
  
A small, soft mouth kissed the spot where Obi-Wan's ear had lain. "I'm sorry, Quigee," Obi-Wan whispered. "Thanks for catching me."  
  
Qui-Gon responded using their bond, sending a wave of love and reassurance. //I'll always catch you, Imp, never fear.//  
  
More kisses fluttered over his chest, and love and admiration pulsed along the bond from little boy. //Thanks, Quigee. You can count on me too. Think I'll stay out of trees for awhile, though.//  
  
Qui-Gon smiled. "Oh, no you don't. A Jedi does not fear." The Master proceeded to toss his young bondmate onto his back.   
  
Obi-Wan instinctively grabbed hold of the strong shoulders. "Quigee?" he asked nervously  
  
"If to climb it, you wish, then climb it, you shall!" Qui-Gon delivered a creditable imitation of his old Master. He strode out of the lake and leapt nimbly into the lower branches of the tree. He scrambled up to the top branches like a great cat, a terrified Obi-Wan clinging to his back.  
  
Qui-Gon glanced over his shoulder and smiled at the curly head buried against his back, refusing to look. "Open your eyes, Imp. The view is magnificent," he said as he surveyed the vista from the top of the huge tree.  
  
"Mag...mag...?" The head came up.  
  
"Magnificent."  
  
Obi-Wan repeated the new word dutifully. He made the mistake of looking down and grabbed Qui-Gon in a stranglehold. "Quigee!" he yelped.  
  
"Look around, Imp. Listen with your heart. Can you hear the Force in this place?"  
  
Obi-Wan tried to find his center, like he'd learned in meditation class. "K-kinda."  
  
"It would catch you, you know, if you asked. Besides, I wouldn't let you fall."  
  
Obi-Wan considered that for a moment. If nothing else, he trusted his Quigee completely. A little, pointed chin perched on Qui-Gon's shoulder. "S'nice up here," Obi-Wan declared, relaxing his frantic grip a bit.  
  
"It is, isn't it?" Qui-Gon contemplated the view for another moment, then shifted Obi-Wan around so that the boy was held securely by one strong arm.  
  
"But what goes up, must come down, right, Imp?" He called Obi-Wan's vine to his hand.  
  
"Oh no. Nononononono."  
  
Qui-Gon dropped an exuberant kiss on Obi-Wan's temple. "Hang on tight, Imp!" he advised before leaping into the air.  
  
Obi-Wan felt the world drop out from underneath him, and he let out a strangled shriek as they swung down towards the lake below. At exactly the right moment, Qui-Gon let go of the vine, and they dropped into the deepest part of the lake, hitting the water with a tremendous splash.  
  
Qui-Gon surfaced, laughing delightedly, pulling Obi-Wan up with him. Huge grey-green eyes blinked in shock for a moment, then the boy pounced on his bondmate.  
  
"Again!!"  
  
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Once was enough, Imp."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Obi-Wan, think for a minute about why we did that."  
  
The small features screwed up in intense thought. Suddenly, a huge smile broke over his face. He threw his arms around Qui-Gon's neck and kissed his bondmate's bearded cheek.  
  
"Thanks, Quigee," he whispered. "You're the best."  
  
Qui-Gon just smiled and brushed a gentle kiss over his little imp's brow. 


	5. The Old Master

Summary: Obi-Wan makes a new friend.  
Notes: This fic is the result of a plot bunny that attacked me when I reread Augusta Pembrooke's "Pleasure Boy." I threw it together in sort of a hurry, so it hasn't been beta'd. All mistakes are mine. Hope you all enjoy it!   
  
Thanks also to everyone who gave me feedback on previous installments! I appreciate hearing from you.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"All right, children, time to get up!" Crèche Master Aronna briskly roused her young charges not long after dawn. Today was the first day of group classes for the three-year olds. Every other day, they'd have Saber Basics with Knight Ralla, and on alternate days, they'd have class in the crèche to learn their letters and numbers.  
  
Twenty-five toddlers whined sleepily and protested the earliness of the hour.  
  
"Come on, sleepyheads, you need to get up and have a good breakfast. You don't want to be late for your first day of lightsaber training, do you?"  
  
THAT got a response. Lightsaber training was definitely an adventure one did not wish to be late for. Fifty little feet hit the floor and pattered dutifully off to the baths. Five minutes and three soap-and-water fights later, twenty-five dripping wet toddlers scurried back into the room. Master Aronna's staff chased them down, dried them off, and then bade them all to dress in clean tunics and leggings.  
  
Twenty-five identically dressed children formed a neat line, and twenty-five expectant little faces regarded the Crèche Master as they waited to be led first to the dining hall, and then to one of the large drill halls for their very first saber lessons.  
  
Aronna chuckled. "Well, maybe I should offer you lightsaber training every morning. I don't think you've ever been out of bed so fast." She led the orderly little line out of the crèche.  
  
Obi-Wan was terribly excited. He was finally going to start learning how to be a Jedi. Just like Quigee. While he'd never seen his bondmate fight with a lightsaber in person, he really liked being along as a mental passenger when the young Jedi Master sparred with other Knights. It was very exciting to watch the green blade flicker and flash through the air.  
  
The little boy ate his breakfast mechanically, too busy thinking about lightsabers to pay attention to what he was eating. He wondered what color his would be. The Knights Quigee sparred with had blades of all different colors. Obi-Wan decided that he wanted a green saber. Just like Quigee.  
  
Breakfast dragged on interminably while Obi-Wan and his agemates fidgeted restlessly.  
  
"Can we go now, pleeeeeeze, Master Aronna?" Garen Muln asked. Garen was one of the very first children Obi-Wan met when he came to the Temple, and the two had become fast friends.  
  
Twenty-three other voices joined in the request to get going. Twenty-three because Obi-Wan was still thinking about green lightsabers.  
  
Master Aronna looked first at the twenty-four, no, twenty-five clamoring youngsters, then at their half-empty cereal bowls. She sighed helplessly. "All right, all right! You're obviously not going to finish your breakfasts this morning, are you?" she asked rhetorically.  
  
"YAY!!!!" the happy cry went up. Twenty-five trays were hastily shoved into the recycler, and the orderly line was reformed with uncharacteristic alacrity. Aronna led them to the drill hall, where she turned them over to Knight Ralla.  
  
"Be warned," she said to the younger Knight, "they're tremendously excited this morning."  
  
Ralla laughed. "So much the better. Eager students are fast learners." She addressed the toddlers next. "All right, children, sit down, and my helpers and I will teach you how to use a lightsaber."  
  
There were twenty-five young Padawans seated in neat rows behind her, each holding a pair of flexible foam-rubber sticks. It was a long-standing tradition in the Temple for the newest Padawans to help the toddlers with their first few saber lessons. It was a good, non-taxing initial teaching responsibility for the young Padawans, and it kept the lessons from disintegrating into games of "club-the-crèchemate." Once the toddlers became more proficient with the training "sabers," the Padawans would be released from their teaching duties, and the children could spar with each other.  
  
Ralla instructed the little ones that they were to listen very carefully to their older sparring partners and try to copy their actions.  
  
Obi-Wan grinned happily. They played copy-cat games in the crèche all the time, and Obi-Wan was very good at it. He smiled sunnily at the older boy who approached him.  
  
"Hi, I'm Raldan," the youth said by way of introduction. "What's your name?"  
  
"I'm Obi-Wan."  
  
"Glad to meet you, Obi-Wan. Here's your very first practice saber. I'll teach you how to use it." Raldan handed Obi-Wan a yellow rubber stick.  
  
Obi-Wan took the stick and frowned at it. He wasn't exactly sure how to phrase his question, but decided he'd try to express his uncertainty anyhow. "Light?" he asked, hoping the older boy would understand.  
  
"Huh?" Raldan asked, puzzled. "Oh, light! I understand. You don't get to use a *real* lightsaber until you get older. Lots older. I don't even have my own yet; I've only ever used the training lightsabers."  
  
Obi-Wan pouted. What good was lightsaber training if he didn't even get to use a real lightsaber? He sighed. He supposed that if the teachers said he had to use a stick at first, he'd go along with it. Maybe if he was really good at using a stick, they'd give him a real lightsaber sooner. Just like Quigee's.  
  
He looked up at Raldan. "Okay. Use stick for now."  
  
The Padawan grinned. "Good. Now look here. This is how you hold it..."  
  
Obi-Wan watched and copied as Raldan showed him the proper way to hold the stick and perform a couple rudimentary parries and lunges with it.  
  
"Great!" Raldan praised the little boy as Obi-Wan demonstrated the maneuvers he'd been taught.  
  
Obi-Wan puffed out his small chest proudly. He was very good at copy-cat games.  
  
"Okay," Raldan said, "now we're going to try something different. You have to try to use your stick to make me drop mine while I try to knock yours out of your hands. Understand?"  
  
Obi-Wan frowned again, puzzled. What good was a lightsaber if everyone was constantly trying to knock it out of your hands? He thought back to the times he'd ridden along while Quigee sparred. He tried to remember how they decided who won. Oh, yes. The person who knocked the lightsaber out of the other guy's hand usually won. So *that* was why Raldan had proposed the stick-knocking game.   
  
Obi-Wan smiled again. "Okay," he chirped.  
  
"Right. Now remember what I showed you."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded.  
  
"Ready, set, go!"  
  
They knocked rubber sticks together a few times before Raldan sent Obi-Wan's practice saber flying.  
  
Obi-Wan pouted as he watched it go.  
  
"Hey, not bad, Obi-Wan! You're pretty good for a beginner." Raldan tousled the little boy's curly hair before trotting off to retrieve the practice saber.  
  
Obi-Wan kept frowning as he considered the situation. Quigee almost never dropped his saber when he played the stick-knocking game with other Knights. Obi-Wan concentrated harder and tried to figure out why. Gradually, it dawned him. Quigee did a lot more than just a couple lunges and parries. He used a lot of different moves to make the other Knights drop their sabers. Obi-Wan pictured some of the sparring matches he'd witnessed, focusing on how Quigee's body felt during the matches, how it moved. He was pretty sure he could make his body move the same way. He decided to give it a try. Maybe he wouldn't drop his stick so quickly.  
  
Raldan returned then and handed back the practice saber. "Okay, Obi-Wan. Let's try it again. This time, try to watch my stick more closely so that you can block it a little better. Ready?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration. This time when they knocked their sticks together, Obi-Wan tried copying one of Quigee's moves. Raldan's stick tumbled to the ground. A surprised grin spread across the little boy's face. That was better.  
  
Raldan blinked. He recognized the maneuver Obi-Wan had used; he'd just learned it himself in Advanced Lightsaber Training last week. Sure, the toddler wasn't as graceful with it, but the technique was unmistakable. He picked up his stick.  
  
"That was really good, Obi-Wan! But it won't be so easy this time."  
  
They engaged again, and Raldan stepped up his technique a notch. They exchanged a few blows before Raldan's rubber stick was flying through the air again. On impulse, Obi-Wan copied another of Quigee's moves, swinging his rubber stick at the backs of Raldan's knees with all his tiny strength.  
  
The blow caught the Padawan by surprise, and he lost his balance and went tumbling to the mats.  
  
Obi-Wan giggled. This was such a fun game! He liked it even better than the copy-cat game. He waited for the Padawan to get up and retrieve his stick.  
  
Knight Ralla approached the pair when she saw Raldan go down.  
  
"What's going on over here?"  
  
"You aren't going to believe this kid, Knight Ralla," Raldan said as he got up and dusted himself off. "He's really good! He's using moves that I'm just starting to learn, and I sure didn't show him how to do it."  
  
Ralla frowned. It wasn't unheard of for one or two of the little ones to be good with a practice saber from the very beginning, but this business of using advanced techniques was another matter entirely.  
  
"Has someone been teaching you to use a saber, Obi-Wan?" she asked the little boy, who was patiently waiting to get on with the game.  
  
Obi-Wan looked up at his teacher, confused. "No."  
  
Ralla tried again. "How do you know how to knock Raldan's stick out of his hand?"  
  
Oh, that was easy. "Watch Quigee."  
  
Ralla exchanged a quizzical glance with the Padawan. "What's a quigee?"  
  
Obi-Wan sighed. He didn't really mind working with adults from time to time, but sometimes they just didn't have a clue. He tried to remember how to say Quigee's real name. Oh, yes. Now he remembered.  
  
"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said proudly.  
  
Ralla's eyes widened. "Qui-Gon? Master Jinn's been teaching you?" That didn't make any sense. Master Jinn was out of the Temple on missions more often than not.  
  
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "No! *Watch* Qui-Gon."  
  
Ralla frowned. That didn't make sense either. The boy had only been at the Temple for a few weeks, and she was sure the crèche children hadn't been to any demonstrations recently. Even if they had, there just hadn't been enough time for the little one to pick up the advanced maneuvers.  
  
"Special, this boy is," a new voice rasped. "Spar with him, I will."  
  
Obi-Wan peeked around Ralla's legs to see who the newcomer was. He stared. The owner of the new voice was very...green. And little -- just about Obi-Wan's size.  
  
Ralla and Raldan recovered from their initial surprise and bowed respectfully. "Of course, Master Yoda," Ralla said. The two Jedi left the old Master and the crècheling to their amusements.  
  
Obi-Wan stared at the little green troll for another minute while it stared silently back at him.  
  
"What's your name?" Obi-Wan finally asked, remembering to be polite.  
  
"Called Yoda, I am. And your name is what? Hmm?"  
  
Obi-Wan blinked as he sorted out the unfamiliar syntax. "I'm Obi-Wan." He giggled. "You talk funny."  
  
Yoda's ears twitched, and his eyes crinkled at the small boy. "Amusing, your speech is, too."  
  
"Are you a new kid in the crèche?" This Yoda-creature was the right size to be a child, so it made sense to Obi-Wan that he therefore *was* a child.  
  
Yoda cackled gleefully. "Child, I am not. Child, I have not been for many years now. But play your stick-knocking game with you, I will."  
  
Obi-Wan beamed, pleased that somebody else used his name for the new game.  
  
"'Kay! But you need a stick like this." Obi-Wan said importantly as he brandished his rubber practice saber.  
  
"Need one of those, I do not. Have my own stick, I do." Yoda indicated his wooden gimer stick.  
  
Obi-Wan eyed it uncertainly. It didn't look as soft as the rubber sabers. He was a bit nervous about being hit with the little troll's stick.  
  
"Worry, you should not. Hurt you, I will not. Very good at stick-knocking game, I am."  
  
Obi-Wan knew a challenge when he heard one. "Oh, yeah?" He drew himself up to his full height, all defiance.  
  
Yoda cackled again and raised his stick.  
  
Obi-Wan engaged him, using as many of Quigee's moves as he could remember. Yoda knocked his rubber stick to the ground and poked him gently in the ribs.  
  
"Got you, I did." The ears wiggled again.  
  
Obi-Wan pouted.  
  
"Get stick," Yoda commanded. "Try again, we will."  
  
Obi-Wan dutifully retrieved his practice saber.  
  
"Watch more carefully, you should."  
  
Obi-Wan wanted to say that he'd been watching carefully enough, thank you very much, but he knew from experience that talking back to his elders rarely furnished positive results. He gritted his teeth and focused all his attention on Yoda's stick and his own practice saber. They dueled briefly again, and Obi-Wan's stick found the floor once more.  
  
"Got you again, I did," Yoda said. "Watching carefully you were not."  
  
"I was, too," Obi-Wan sulked. The troll was much better at the stick-knocking game than Raldan.  
  
Yoda cackled. "Only watching with your eyes, you were. Focused only on blades, you were. Get stick. Show you how to watch, I will."  
  
Obi-Wan regarded Yoda dubiously, but obeyed.  
  
When he returned, Yoda raised his stick. "Only watching my stick, you were, yes?"  
  
"I have to watch the stick to hit it," Obi-Wan protested.  
  
"Ah, but only thing to watch, it is not. Watch here," Yoda thumped the middle of his chest, "to see how body moves before hit you, I do." Yoda next pointed to his eyes. "Also watch here. Look for an open spot on your body, I must, before hit you, I do. Watch."  
  
Yoda moved to poke Obi-Wan in the ribs again. Obi-Wan blocked the blow.  
  
"Hah! See?"  
  
Obi-Wan grinned and nodded. Yoda's eyes and the way he moved had telegraphed his target.  
  
"Watch only with eyes, you should not."  
  
Obi-Wan was confused. "What else do I watch with?"  
  
There was a nudge in his mind not far from where Quigee's voice lived.   
  
"Watch here, you should."  
  
Obi-Wan was skeptical. "How do I watch with that?"  
  
"Close eyes. Think hard."  
  
Obi-Wan did.  
  
Yoda swung his stick well away from Obi-Wan's body.  
  
"Feel that, did you?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
There was another nudge. "Think with this, you should."  
  
Yoda swung again. "Feel it this time, did you?"  
  
"Um, kinda?"  
  
"Hah! Good. Keep eyes closed."  
  
Yoda moved to poke Obi-Wan in the ribs yet again. Eyes still closed, Obi-Wan sensed a vague...something. He swung wildly, missing Yoda's stick entirely.  
  
"Owww!" Obi-Wan complained, rubbing his recently-jabbed side.  
  
Yoda patted the boy's head. "Poked you, I did, but knew it was coming, you did. Even if missed it, you did. Again," Yoda ordered.  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes again.  
  
Yoda waited. And waited. Then suddenly poked again.  
  
Obi-Wan sensed it coming in the part of his mind near where Quigee was and knocked the gimer stick away. His eyes flew open. "Wow!!"  
  
Yoda's ears twitched madly. "See? Knew you could do it, I did. Very good, small one."  
  
Obi-Wan beamed. If he practiced hard, he'd bet he could get just as good at this game as he was at the copy-cat games.  
  
Knight Ralla had been watching off to one side for quite some time. This little one, whoever he was, was going to be a fantastic swordsman. Children usually didn't master the art of "watching" with the Force until they were old enough to be chosen as Padawans. And this little tyke had managed it at three! She nodded to Yoda, knowing that he had picked up on her musings since she hadn't really been shielding. She turned to the rest of the group and clapped her hands loudly, interrupting the basic saber drills.  
  
"Okay, children. Time to line up and go back to the crèche," she called.  
  
A universal chorus of groans went up. The kids were having way too much fun to stop now.  
  
"It's time for lunch," Ralla added.  
  
Now THAT was a different story. Growing Jedi Knights are always hungry. The kids scrambled to line up.  
  
Obi-Wan waved goodbye to his new friend before leaving to join the line. "Bye-bye, Yoda."  
  
"Wait," Yoda rasped. He turned to Knight Ralla. "Time for their lunch, it is, yes?"  
  
Ralla nodded.  
  
"Take Obi-Wan with me, I will. Have lunch with him, I will. Tell Master Aronna, you will, yes?"  
  
Ralla bowed. "Yes, Master Yoda. May I tell her why?"  
  
"Knows, she does, or guess, she will."  
  
"Thank you, Master."  
  
Yoda turned to the little boy. "With me, you will come. Lunch, we will have together, yes?"  
  
Oh, goody. Obi-Wan loved making new friends. He bounced to Yoda's side. "'Kay!"  
  
"To my quarters, we will go. Chairs in the dining room, too large, they are."  
  
Obi-Wan giggled. "You could sit with us kids," he suggested. "At the small table with small chairs."  
  
Yoda made a face. "Difficult, it is, to eat with so many children. Pull my ears, they always do. Come!" The wizened Master started shuffling towards the door. "Cookies I have for you, if eat all your lunch, you do."  
  
Cookies? Oh, boy! Obi-Wan skipped alongside his new friend as they went slowly through the Temple halls. Obi-Wan was curious about the little green troll.  
  
"Are you a Jedi?"  
  
Yoda cackled. "Jedi Master, I am. Like your bondmate."  
  
Obi-Wan goggled. "A Master? Really? Wow." He'd never seen such a small Jedi Master  
  
"My padawan, your bondmate was."  
  
"Pad...pad...?"  
  
"Padawan. Means student, it does. Qui-Gon's padawan, you will be someday. Your master, he will be. His master, I was. Good padawan, he was."  
  
Yoda stopped in front of a door, and it opened before them. He led the way into his quarters. Obi-Wan looked around curiously.  
  
"You have trees in your room?" Obi-Wan asked incredulously, looking at the gnarled swamp plants that crawled up Yoda's walls.  
  
"Remind me of home, they do."  
  
Obi-Wan grew somber. "D'you miss your home and your mommy and daddy, too?"  
  
Yoda smiled gently and put one clawed hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Seen my parents since I hatched, I have not. Very different from humans, my species is. Try not to miss your home, you must. Your family, the Jedi will become. Take care of you, we will."  
  
Obi-Wan's attention wandered. "How old are you?" he asked suddenly.  
  
"Many years, I have. How many have you?"  
  
"I'm three," Obi-Wan said proudly.  
  
Yoda's ears twitched. "Eight hundred years, I have." Obi-Wan looked confused. "Lots more than three, that is." Yoda sniffed the air. "Ah. Already brought our lunch, they have. Come! Sit and eat, we will." Two steaming trays waited on a low table. Obi-Wan sat in the small chair that was clearly meant for him.  
  
"Wait for me, you will. Tea, I must get."  
  
Tea? Yuck! Obi-Wan wanted to be polite, so he didn't protest.  
  
Yoda picked up on the boy's thoughts and grinned. "Juice, I have for you. For me, the tea is."  
  
"Oh, good. Don't like tea. Yucky!" Obi-Wan scowled.  
  
"Acquired taste, it is."  
  
Obi-Wan looked at him blankly.  
  
"Like it when you are older, you might."  
  
Obi-Wan was patently unconvinced. Yoda shuffled off and returned with a steaming mug for himself and a tall glass of chilled juice for the little boy. He took the lids off the trays.  
  
Obi-Wan grimaced when he saw the vegetables heaped alongside a small meat sandwich. "Vegetables?" he whined. "Ick."  
  
Yoda climbed onto a stump-like stool at the other end of the table. "Growing boy, you are. Vegetables, you need, to grow strong and healthy. Eat their vegetables, good Jedi Knights always do. Besides, cookies for you, I have, if eat all your vegetables, you do."  
  
Oh, yeah. Cookies! Obi-Wan dug manfully into the vegetables, shoveling them down as quickly as he could to get it over with.  
  
"Eat so quickly, you should not. Sick, you might become."  
  
Obi-Wan gulped down the last mouthful of vegetables, then started in on his sandwich much more slowly. He liked sandwiches. Sometimes his hands got clumsy with forks and spoons, but sandwiches he could eat with his fingers. And that was a lot more fun, anyhow. He glanced curiously at Yoda's plate. It appeared to hold only vegetables.  
  
"No sandwich for you? Were you bad?"  
  
Yoda cackled, his ears wiggling rapidly. "Bad, I was not. Need meat, my body does not. Different from yours, it is."  
  
"Oh. Think I'm glad I'm not a troll, then. I don't want to eat vegetables ALL the time."  
  
Yoda's ears flattened. "Troll, I am not," he huffed indignantly. The message unit mounted low on the wall beeped suddenly. Yoda shuffled over to it and hit a button. He scanned the incoming missive rapidly.  
  
"Ah. From your bondmate, it is. Returning to the Temple later, he is."  
  
"Quigee's coming home? Yay!!"  
  
"Like that, I thought you might." Yoda's eyes turned mischievous. "Pictures, I have, of Qui-Gon when he was very young. Want to see them, you do, yes?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded eagerly. "Cookies?" he reminded the Master. He'd cleaned his plate and emptied his glass. He was eager for the promised reward.  
  
"Forgotten, I have not. Eat cookies, you can, while looking at old pictures."  
  
Yoda floated a plate of cookies and a holo projector to the table. Obi-Wan snatched a cookie as the projector powered up. It flicked through several images of a gawky, too-tall, awkward-looking youth with a braid that got progressively longer as the pictures went on.  
  
"Young, your bondmate was once. Like you. Many stories, I could tell you about him." Yoda's eyes twinkled. "Funny stories. Embarrassing to Qui-Gon, they are."  
  
Stories? Obi-Wan liked listening to stories. Especially about Quigee. Quigee never told any funny stories about himself. Maybe Master Yoda would tell them, instead. "Would you tell me? About when Quigee was your Pad...Pad...um, student?"  
  
Yoda cackled. "Tell you another time, I will. Come back to visit, you must. Think I have something more interesting for you today."  
  
As if by magic, the door chime sounded. "Enter," Yoda called. The door opened to reveal...  
  
"Quigee!!" Obi-Wan shot out of his chair and ran towards his bondmate.  
  
The young Jedi Master swept the little boy up and into his arms as he stepped through the door. "Hello, Imp. What are you doing in here?" he asked with a smile.  
  
"Quigee! I made a new friend, and his name is Yoda, and we played a game with sticks, but I really wanted to use a green lightsaber like yours, and I learned how to watch with my eyes closed, and Yoda and me had lunch, and I ate all my vegetables, and I had cookies, and Yoda said that he was your teacher, and he has lots of pictures of you when you were his Pad...Pad...um, student, and he promised to tell me lots of funny stories about you, and can I have a tree in the crèche?"  
  
Qui-Gon laughed. "Sounds like you've had a very full morning, my imp."  
  
"Uh-huh!"  
  
"I don't think they'd let you have a tree in the crèche, though."  
  
Obi-Wan pouted. "Why not?"  
  
Qui-Gon fished for a suitable excuse.  
  
It was Yoda who spoke up. "Have dirt in the crèche, they do not. A mess, the other children would make. Unhappy, the tree would be. Have one of mine, you can, and take care of it for you, I will. Visit it, you can, when come to see me, you do."  
  
Obi-Wan brightened. That sounded like a good idea.  
  
"'Kay! Thanks, Master Yoda!"  
  
"Pick one now, you should. Sit with it, you will, and introduce yourself. Talk with your bondmate for a minute, I must, then have him, you can." Yoda's ears wiggled at the little boy.  
  
Obi-Wan squirmed out of Qui-Gon's embrace and pattered over to one of the gnarled old plants. He plopped down among the roots.  
  
Yoda nudged the little boy's mind again. "Talk to it with this, you should. Understand you better, it will."  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and scrunched his little face up in fierce concentration.  
  
Yoda turned back to Qui-Gon.  
  
"How did you manage to run into Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked his former master  
  
"Dropped in on his saber lessons, I did." The gleam in Yoda's eyes made Qui-Gon think that his presence in the drill hall hadn't been a complete accident. "Sparred with him, I did. Very good with a lightsaber, he will be, when older, he gets. Use his Force sense already, he can. Learns from you always, he does. Watched him disarm a Padawan twice, I did. A handful, he will be," Yoda chortled.  
  
"A handful, he already is," Qui-Gon said, grinning. "I wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
Yoda turned wise old eyes on the little boy trying to talk to one of his trees. "A very special little boy, he is. Good for each other, you are," the old Master said to his former student. "Take good care of him, Padawan mine."  
  
"With my life," Qui-Gon said fervently. "We take care of each other. When I'm in-Temple, that is." He flicked a mildly accusatory glance at the Councilor.   
  
"Wait, your report can," Yoda said imperturbably. "Spend time with your bondmate, you should. Talk to you tomorrow morning, I will."  
  
"Thank you, Master." He paused. "What sort of stories were you going to tell him?"  
  
Yoda cackled. "Tell you, I will not. My prerogative as his Grandmaster, it is."  
  
Qui-Gon sighed resignedly. Meddling old troll, he groused silently  
  
"Heard that, I did."  
  
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon called.  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes opened. "Yes, Quigee?"  
  
"Would you like to go swim in the Water Gardens?"  
  
Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet. "Yes, please!"  
  
Qui-Gon picked the little boy up, and Obi-Wan snuggled in comfortably against his chest.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow, Master."  
  
Yoda nodded and watched them go. He sighed happily, pleased that he had another little one to water. Perhaps he should water this one a bit less than he'd watered his last padawan. That one had grown entirely too tall. He stumped over to the tree Obi-Wan had chosen, sat down, and listened to its voice in the Force as it told him all the fascinating things the little boy had said. It only confirmed his opinion; Obi-Wan was a very special little boy, indeed.  
  
Fin. 


	6. Of Computers and Closets

Summary: Qui-Gon's computer bites the dust.  
Notes: I wrote this ficlet when the m_a list was in an uproar over the archivists leaving. Just wanted to cut through the tension and make people smile.  
~~~~~~~  
  
Qui-Gon sat at his data terminal, trying to book passage to a resort world for himself and his young bondmate while Obi-Wan fiddled with the strap of a small travel pack on the couch.  
  
The terminal bleeped suddenly and started emitting the most horrendous squealing and grinding noises.  
  
From his semi-sprawled position in the chair, Qui-Gon sat up with a start, and his fingers began flying frantically over the keyboard, trying to outrace disaster. There was a muffled *pop* and an acrid whiff of ozone, and then a single line of text scrolled across the screen.  
  
.....catastrophic memory failure.....all data lost.....  
  
Qui-Gon glared at the uncaring, impersonal screen and said a Seriously Bad Word. In several languages.  
  
Over on the couch, little hands suddenly stopped tying knots in a shoulder strap, and big eyes blinked at the young Jedi Master.  
  
"Quigee?"  
  
Qui-Gon winced and turned towards his bondmate. He'd forgotten the child was there and had spoken carelessly.  
  
"Obi-Wan," he said resignedly, "promise me you won't ever repeat what I just said."  
  
Obi-Wan regarded him gravely. It was clear that whatever had just happened was a Very Bad Thing and was probably Not Easily Fixed. He sighed. Poor Quigee. He worked so hard all the time and had so little chance to rest. Obi-Wan decided that this was something that Quigee needed help with.  
  
The boy hopped off the couch and pattered over to the defunct terminal. He clambered onto Qui-Gon's lap and snuggled into the warm brown robes.  
  
"I promise, Quigee," he murmured into his bondmate's broad chest, then stretched up and planted a juice-scented kiss on a bearded cheek. "We can stay here and have fun. Don't need to go on vacation. You can hide under my bed so's Master Yoda doesn't send you away again," he offered generously.  
  
Qui-Gon smiled in spite of himself and wrapped his arms around the trusting, earnest little sprite in his lap. "Do you suppose I could hide under your bed for a very long time?" he asked a trifle plaintively.  
  
Obi-Wan pulled back and regarded the tall Master doubtfully. "I dunno, Quigee. You're awful big. I never hid anything as big as you under my bed before."   
  
His serious little face scrunched up briefly in concentration, then brightened.  
"I know!" he crowed. He hopped off Qui-Gon's lap and tugged insistently at one big hand.   
  
The slightly bemused Master got to his feet and let Obi-Wan lead him into Qui-Gon's own bedroom.  
  
Obi-Wan marched into the open closet, pulling his unresisting bondmate in after him, and then closed the door.  
  
"There," a small voice said firmly. "You're not too big to hide in here, and Master Yoda won't find you."  
  
Qui-Gon gathered the sturdy little form into his arms. "Ah, my imp," he said fondly, "what am I going to do with you?"  
  
Obi-Wan considered the question. "Build me a fort?" he said hopefully.  
  
Qui-Gon started laughing helplessly, then set about constructing a suitable fort in the cramped space. Obi-Wan ordered him about like a little general until the accomodations were to his liking.  
  
The Jedi Master then found himself playing Galactic Warriors in a too-small closet with a four-year-old crecheling. And that was better than any vacation.  
  
Fin 


	7. To the Rescue

Summary: Obi-Wan makes a new friend.

Notes: This fic is the result of a plot bunny that attacked me when I saw a picture that Tem-ve sent me way back after I posted "The Old Master."  It's a picture of Tem-ve with one of her Master's kids wrapped around her leg.  I threw this little story together in sort of a hurry, so it hasn't been beta'd.  All mistakes are mine.  Hope you all enjoy it! 

This fic is for Tem-ve for the inspiration (and lessons), and for Briony and Majilique, because they asked so nicely.

-----------------------------------------------------

Obi-Wan was terribly proud of himself.  He and his crèchemates had been learning basic saber skills for perhaps a month now, and today, Knight Ralla had begun replacing their soft foam practice sticks with real practice sabers made from a flexible transparisteel alloy.  She'd tested all the children, and given the new sabers to those she felt were ready.  They weren't communal property either, to be shoved back into a sack after class.  The training 'blades' were to be kept and cared for by the children, themselves.  And Obi-Wan had gotten one.  He'd never been so excited in his life, and he could hardly wait to show Quigee.  He carried his new blade proudly as he lined up with the other crèchelings to walk back to the crèche for lunch and afternoon lessons.  It wasn't a real lightsaber, not yet, but it was one step closer to the real thing.

Padawan Shanra, the apprentice of one of Crèche Master Aronna's assistants, appeared at the door of the large training hall to lead the children back to the crèche.  At the end of the line, Obi-Wan dutifully followed the child in front of him as they wove among the Jedi milling about on the observation deck above the training salles.  At least, he followed until he got distracted by a commotion above one of the rooms.  His curiosity quickly got the better of him, and he broke away from his classmates to see what all the fuss was about.  He elbowed the brown-robed figures aside until he reached the window, which he had to stand on tiptoe to see through.

Two Knights were caught up in a fierce sparring match, sabers flickering so fast that they were hard to see.  Obi-Wan stretched up taller, trying to see better so that he could figure out who the Knights were.  A pair of helpful hands closed around his middle from behind and boosted him up a bit.

"There, Little One, can you see better now?" the burly, middle-aged Master asked.

Obi-Wan swiveled his head around to look into twinkling hazel eyes.  "Yes, Master, sir," he piped.  "Thank you, Master."  He turned back to the window and squeaked in dismay.

He recognized the two combatants.  One of them was Councilor Mundi, a tall and imposing Cerean.  The other was his Quigee, and from the looks of things, Quigee was losing.  He watched with mounting fear as the young Master scrambled backwards to avoid the Knight's blade.  All around him, Obi-Wan could hear the murmurs.

"Mundi's in top form today."

"Nobody's beaten Jinn in two cycles or more."

"I hope Mundi wipes the floor with him."

That did it.  Nobody said bad things about his Quigee, no sir.  And nobody was allowed to hurt him either.  Qui-Gon dove to one side to avoid a huge swipe, but Mundi's saber caught his shoulder and scorched the tunic.  Obi-Wan gasped and squirmed out of the Master's grip.  He crawled through the crowd of booted legs until he reached the door that led to the stairway down to the mats.  Using a Force-manipulation he'd learned from watching his bondmate, Obi-Wan quickly disabled the lock and squeezed through the door.  He bounded down the stairs and into the ring as fast as his little legs would carry him, not caring that he was undoubtedly throwing himself into harm's way.

He charged directly at the big Cerean, his new practice saber raised and ready.  Neither man noticed him at first, so intensely were they concentrating on their bout.  Unconsciously using the Force to guide him, Obi-Wan waited for an opening and darted in, attacking the Knight's shins furiously with his training saber.

Somewhere in the back of his consciousness, Ki-Adi-Mundi registered a pounding on his lower legs, even as he parried and deflected a strong advance from young Master Jinn.  He was determined to put the rebellious youngster in his place, deflate his ego and take him down an appropriate peg or two.  It was unseemly, really, for such a maverick to attain the rank of Master at such a young age.  He needed to be put in his place.  Mundi danced away from the distracting sensation in his legs, too preoccupied to focus on it for any length of time.

Obi-Wan followed the retreating Knight, pummeling his lower legs ferociously.  But still, the tall Knight fought on, relentless in his quest to defeat Qui-Gon.  Obi-Wan finally decided that enough was enough, and he flung his small body forward with all his might and slammed into Knight Mundi's right leg.  Slightly dazed by the impact, he slid down the Knight's leg until he was seated on one long foot, then held on for dear life with both arms and legs as the big man craned his head around to see what had hit him, then gave a startled cry as he lost his balance and went down like a tree.

The observers above the salle went dead silent, uncertain of how to respond to a three-year-old boy who'd just taken out a Council Member.

Qui-Gon disengaged, the fog of combat clearing from his brain as he tried to figure out just what exactly was going on.

Obi-Wan released the leg to which he clung and scrambled to his feet.  He pattered over to his bondmate and planted himself firmly between Qui-Gon and the Councilor.  He brandished his little training saber fiercely.

"Not hurt Quigee!" he shouted at the Cerean.

Mundi blinked at the belligerent sprite glowering at him, not quite sure what to make of the little boy.

Qui-Gon started laughing helplessly.  "It appears my reinforcements have arrived, Councilor.  Care to take us both on?"  He extended a hand to the toppled Knight.

Mundi chuckled and accepted the proffered hand.  In an uncharacteristically friendly gesture, he grinned at Obi-Wan and ruffled his russet curls once he'd regained his feet.  "I don't know, this one looks like he might give me some trouble."

Obi-Wan stuck his chin out in defiance and glared pugnaciously at the tall Knight.  Nobody got to hurt his Quigee.  Not ever.

The Councilor laughed again.  "And just who is your brave rescuer, Master Jinn?"

"This," Qui-Gon said as he picked Obi-Wan up and settled the boy on his hip, "is Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi crècheling and my bondmate."

Mundi's eyebrows shot upwards.  "Your bondmate?" he asked incredulously.

Qui-Gon shrugged.  "The bond formed when I helped deliver him.  Neither of us had any say in the matter."  His face softened into a tender smile as he glanced at his little imp.  "The Force chose well; I've never been happier."

Obi-Wan was still regarding the Councilor with acute distrust.  He tugged urgently at Qui-Gon's tunic.  "You safe, Quigee?" he asked.

Qui-Gon's big hand stroked briefly over Obi-Wan's hair and came to rest on his cheek in reassurance.  "Yes, Imp, I'm quite safe.  Thank you for rescuing me.  You were very brave."

Obi-Wan beamed, supremely pleased with himself.  He'd rescued his Quigee, and all was well.  Not bad for a three-year-old Jedi.  He wondered if such bravery would make him a Knight.

Qui-Gon smiled tickled his young bondmate's tummy when he picked up on the thought.  "You're as brave as any Knight, my imp."

Obi-Wan giggled delightedly and threw his arms around Qui-Gon's neck, hugging the Master tightly.

Qui-Gon tried not to wince as the side of his head was clocked with Obi-Wan's training saber.

Ki-Adi-Mundi did his best not to laugh.

The observers on the upper deck had less success controlling their reactions and burst into laughter and applause.  Qui-Gon saluted them wryly with his lightsaber, and Councilor Mundi followed suit.

A frazzled Padawan Shanra chose that moment to burst into the salle.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi!" she scolded.  "Get down from there at once.  You know better than to get out of line.  Master Jinn, Councilor Mundi, I'm terribly sorry this child interrupted your bout.  It won't happen again, and he will be punished for this."

Obi-Wan shrank against Qui-Gon's chest, unsure of why he should be in trouble for saving his bondmate.

Qui-Gon felt his hurt confusion and hastened to reassure him.  "That won't be necessary, Padawan.  Obi-Wan thought I was in danger and took it upon himself to ...ah... rescue me.  You needn't punish him."

"He did a damned fine job of it, too," the Councilor said, rubbing his sore hip ruefully.

The Padawan regarded them quizzically for a moment, then nodded and moved to take the crècheling from the Master's arms.

Still convinced he was going to be punished, Obi-Wan clutched at his bondmate's tunics and turned huge, pleading eyes on Qui-Gon.

//nonononono please...,// he sent desperately.

Qui-Gon wrapped his arms around the terrified child.  //Don't be afraid, my brave little imp.  You won't be punished.//

Obi-Wan just grasped the tunics tighter, refusing to let the Padawan take him from his bondmate.

"That won't be necessary, Padawan.  I'll keep him with me for the remainder of the afternoon.  Inform Master Aronna for me, would you?"

Shanra stared at him in disbelief.  What could a Master want with a crèche brat?  Well, it wasn't for her to question.  She bowed stiffly.  "Yes, Master Jinn," she said, then turned and left, shaking her head.

Obi-Wan sagged with relief.  "Thanks, Quigee," he whispered as he fairly throttled his bondmate with another hug.

Qui-Gon glanced at Knight Mundi, who was looking at him in a whole new light as he watched the Master interact with his young bondmate.

"I apologize for the interruption, Councilor.  Shall we spar again some other time?"

"Certainly, Master Jinn.  Perhaps tomorrow, same time?"

"Excellent.  I'll be here."

The two Jedi saluted each other with their blades.

"Well, Imp, I think I have some qualla frost in my quarters that I need some help eating.  Do you know anyone who would volunteer for the job?"

Obi-Wan's eyes got big.  Qualla frost?  "Me!" he said breathlessly.  "Oh, me!"  He loved qualla frost.

Qui-Gon chuckled and gestured for Councilor Mundi to precede them up the stairs to the observation deck.  Some of the Jedi still gathered there ribbed Mundi good-naturedly for being beaten by a crècheling, and then the whole lot broke into applause again when Qui-Gon appeared with Obi-Wan still seated on his hip.  The little boy smiled shyly as his hair was ruffled and his back patted from all sides.

Qui-Gon finally steered them through the well-meaning crowd and carried Obi-Wan through the Temple to his quarters.  When the door had closed behind him, Qui-Gon set the boy down.

"Now, I think Jedi Knights who've had a busy morning deserve a treat; what do you think?" he asked.

Obi-Wan drew himself up proudly and saluted his bondmate with his practice saber, copying the gesture he'd seen Qui-Gon and Councilor Mundi exchange earlier.

Qui-Gon hid a smile as he bowed solemnly, then headed for the cold box and his stash of iced qualla frost.


	8. Oops

Summary: Adventures in babysitting.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------  
  
  
  
It was restday. Obi-Wan had mixed feelings about restday. Sure, they didn't have classes, but that also meant they didn't have saber training. Obi-Wan would really rather have had saber training but not afternoon classes. *Then* restday would've really been something special. As it was, he got to play in the crèche with his friends. That was okay, he supposed, but today he wanted to play with Quigee. Given that the Crèche Masters were especially watchful on restdays, escaping from the crèche would require some Very Devious Plotting.  
  
Obi-Wan was seated on the floor, deep in thought, when something thudded into him from behind, bowling him head over heels.  
  
"Hiya, Obi-Wan," the projectile said, resolving itself into Obi-Wan's friend, Garen Muln, after they'd untangled all the limbs and figured out whose was whose.  
  
"Hello, Garen."  
  
"Whatcha doin'?" the other boy asked.  
  
"Gonna go see Quigee."  
  
"Is he coming to get you?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
Garen frowned, puzzled. "Is Master Aronna gonna take you to see him?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
Garen's eyes widened.  
  
"You're gonna *sneak* out?!" he asked in a hushed whisper.  
  
Obi-Wan grinned. "Yup," he whispered back.  
  
Garen gasped in delighted apprehension. "How're you gonna do it? You know they watch more when we don't have lessons. You'll never make it."  
  
Obi-Wan glanced appraisingly at Garen. "I can if I have help."  
  
Garen's eyes narrowed. "Oh, no. No way. *I'm* not gonna get in trouble just so *you* can go see Master Jinn."  
  
"C'mon, Garen, puh-leeeeeeeeeze," Obi-Wan whined. "I'll teach you some of Quigee's saber moves," he offered. "Knight Ralla will probably give you a real training saber if you learn them."  
  
Garen's eyes lit up. "What do I have to do?"  
  
"I need a div...div...di-ver-sion," Obi-Wan said importantly, using a big word he'd learned from Quigee.  
  
Garen looked blank. "What's a di-ver-sion?"  
  
"You gotta distract the Crèche Masters; make them look the other way while I get out."  
  
"How do I do that? Even when I'm in trouble, they don't *all* pay attention to me at once."  
  
Obi-Wan's brow furrowed in fierce concentration. Inspiration suddenly descended upon him.  
  
"Hey, guys, what's going on?" The two boys' friend, Reeft, had seen them conspiring and wanted to be let in on the fun.  
  
Obi-Wan grinned.  
  
"Obi's gonna teach me new saber stuff," Garen said proudly.  
  
"Obi-Wan?" Reeft looked hurt. He wanted to learn some of the cool moves he'd seen Master Jinn do, too.  
  
Obi-Wan patted Reeft's shoulder reassuringly. "I'll teach you, too, Reeft. But you gotta help me escape."  
  
"Obi's gonna *sneak* out to see Master Jinn," Garen confided in a scandalized whisper.  
  
Reeft gasped. "Aren't you gonna get in trouble?"  
  
Obi-Wan considered that. "Maybe a little, but it's worth it. I can't get in *too* much trouble for going to see another Master. S'not like I'm gonna go steal food or anything," he said reasonably.  
  
Reeft nodded. "Okay. How're we gonna get them to stop watching?"  
  
"Hmmmmmmm." Obi-Wan looked around the crèche. His eyes lit up suddenly, and he pulled his friends into a huddle, whispering hurriedly.  
  
Several nods and furtive glances later, the trio split up. Five minutes later, Reeft tripped over a chair and crashed into a table holding finger- paints, splattering several other children and crèche assistants with brilliant color. Meanwhile, Garen tried to turn up the lights using the Force, but accidentally-on-purpose managed to activate the fire sprinklers instead. Pandemonium ensued.  
  
Obi-Wan grinned at the general destruction in the crèche, then slipped out the door.  
  
Thirty minutes later, Master Aronna had managed to deactivate the sprinkler system and restore some semblance of order. She looked around. "Has anyone seen Obi-Wan?"  
  
The assistants all shook their heads.  
  
Master Aronna sighed. At least when Obi-Wan snuck out, she always knew where he was going. Obi-Wan was such an accommodating little one; whenever he escaped her watchful eye, he invariably went directly to a highly qualified baby-sitter.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Obi-Wan hurried through the Temple halls, following his bondmate's Force signature and hoping that he wouldn't be stopped by any of the older Jedi he passed. Today, Qui-Gon's Force signature was leading him in a new direction. He was heading away from the training salles, he knew, and he could tell that the young Master wasn't in his quarters. Unperturbed, Obi- Wan continued on his way, Qui-Gon's presence a bright light in his mind.  
  
He finally stopped in front of a door high up in a tower where he'd never been before. Everything looked dreadfully official. Off to Obi-Wan's right was a set of truly imposing double doors, but Quigee wasn't behind them. He was in a smaller room next door, Obi-Wan was sure. He turned all his mental strength to the door, encouraging it to open.  
  
It didn't budge.  
  
Obi-Wan frowned. It seemed the door wasn't about to give up his Quigee. His frown deepened to a scowl as he tried again and again to open the door.  
  
"Open it, you cannot," a voice rasped from behind him. "Secret meeting, it is."  
  
Obi-Wan whirled around. He bowed carefully, unsteadily to the green troll, just like he'd seen other Jedi Knights do. "Master Yoda," he chirped.  
  
Yoda grinned at the little interloper. "In there, your bondmate is. Come out, he cannot, until the meeting is over."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Important meeting, it is. Interrupt them, you should not."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Yoda's ears twitched. "Because," he said definitively. "Top Secret."  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes widened. "Secret?" he whispered excitedly.  
  
"Very secret," the old Master said sagely.  
  
Obi-Wan considered that. "Long meeting?" he asked.  
  
"Long meeting, yes. Many hours already, I think. Three hours more, at least."  
  
Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment. "Quigee will be tired. And upset. He's always upset after meetings. We should do something nice for him."  
  
Yoda blinked. "Do something nice, we should?" he parroted. "What for? Many meetings, Jedi Masters always have when at the Temple, they are. Unusual, this is not. Used to it, your bondmate is."  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head resolutely. "Do something nice for Quigee," he ordered. "Tea. Quigee likes tea. And cookies."  
  
Despite his 800 years of experience, Yoda found himself on somewhat uncertain footing. It had been a long time since he'd dealt with any children outside of the more formal context of the crèche, classrooms, or meditation gardens.  
  
"Tea, your bondmate has already. Cookies too, perhaps," Yoda said carefully.  
  
Obi-Wan brightened. "Oh good! We should go to Quigee's quarters. Make him tea and cookies for when he gets out."  
  
Yoda's mind worked rapidly. Devilishly smart, these young ones could be if one wasn't careful. "Impolite, it would be, for us to enter Qui-Gon's quarters without his permission."  
  
Obi-Wan regarded the small, green Master patiently. "But you're Master *Yoda,*" he said, as if that should explain everything.  
  
Yoda blinked again.  
  
"You can get into *everybody's* quarters if you want to. And Quigee won't mind. You're his Master."  
  
Well. He couldn't really argue with that. "Very well. Come with me, you will, small one. Wait for your bondmate, we shall."  
  
"With tea and cookies?" Obi-Wan stressed.  
  
"With tea and cookies."  
  
Yoda turned and started to shuffle off. Obi-Wan cast one last glance at the closed door, then scampered after the small Jedi Master. When he caught up to Yoda, he carefully grabbed one green claw in his own small hand.  
  
Yoda's ears twitched, and he looked quizzically at the little boy.  
  
"Gotta hold hands with your buddy when the Crèche Masters aren't around," Obi-Wan said authoritatively. "It's a rule."  
  
"Important, rules are. Glad, I am, that you follow them. Not like your bondmate," Yoda grumbled. "Follow the rules always, he did not. Made things very difficult for his master, he sometimes did."  
  
Obi-Wan goggled. "Quigee didn't follow the rules?" he gasped. "But Quigee *always* tells me to follow the rules."  
  
Yoda grinned slyly, hoping to head off any incipient rebelliousness while the boy was still young. "Do as your bondmate says, you should. Doing as your bondmate does, a good idea, this sometimes is not."  
  
"But Quigee's the bestest Jedi ever! Well, mostly," Obi-Wan hastily amended as his nascent sense of diplomacy finally caught up with his mouth.  
  
"Hrmpf."  
  
Despite their slow progress, they'd already arrived at Qui-Gon's quarters, thanks to Master Yoda's 800 years of familiarity with Temple shortcuts that allowed those with short legs to get to meetings on time.  
  
Yoda reached up and placed one withered claw against the palm reader and 'nudged' the locking mechanism with the Force, encouraging it to recognize him. The door slid open obediently.  
  
Obi-Wan scampered inside and made a beeline for the kitchen, chattering excitedly all the while. "Thanks for opening the door, Master Yoda. Do you know where Quigee keeps the tea? Prolly higher than I can reach. Can you...? Oh no you can't, we're the same size. But you're good at floating stuff, huh? So you could probably get the tea down. Oh, hey wait, these drawer handles might work..."  
  
Like a little monkey, Obi-Wan nimbly scaled the cabinets and crawled along the counter. "Lessee, tea, tea, where does Quigee keep his tea?" He began opening cupboards, banging the doors shut enthusiastically when the tea did not appear. Yoda winced.  
  
"Not here, not here, no tea here, oh! Tea." Obi-Wan thrust two small hands into a cupboard, stretched precariously up onto his toes. He extracted a tin that he recognized as the one that held Qui-Gon's favorite blend. As he lifted from the shelf, he lost his balance and flung out both hands to steady himself. The tin of loose tea leaves sailed through the air.  
  
"Oops!"  
  
Sensing a disaster in the offing, Yoda instinctively reached out with the Force and steadied the falling tin. He glanced at the imp clinging to the cabinetry, and his ears twitched in amusement. "Be more careful, you should. Still small, you are. Still learning. Afraid to ask for help, you should not be."  
  
"Yes, Master Yoda. I'm sorry." Obi-Wan was genuinely contrite, and sincerity shone from his little face like a blinding beacon. "I just want to do something nice for Quigee. He's always so nice to me. I want to take care of him, too."  
  
Despite his oftimes prickly demeanor, Yoda knew that deep down, he was just an 800-year-old softie. In a flash of foresight, he saw clearly how much this little child would mean to his former padawan. He could see that Obi- Wan would be Qui-Gon's salvation. He smiled gently. "Help you with the teapot, I will, when the time is right. Near the hot stove, you should not be. Very angry, Qui-Gon would be, if let you get burned, I did."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded gravely, then his attention shifted again. "Oh yeah. Cookies. D'you know where Quigee keeps the cookies?"  
  
Yoda searched the kitchen quickly with his mind. His ears drooped. "Sense cookies, I do not. Out of them, Qui-Gon must be."  
  
Obi-Wan squared his shoulders. "We'll have to make some then."  
  
Yoda blinked, off-balance again.  
  
"Get cookies from the commissary, we could."  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head stubbornly. "Nope. Not as good. Only the best cookies for Quigee."  
  
Yoda glanced at the chronometer. Two and a half hours until Qui-Gon was due out of the meeting. Baking cookies should fill in that time nicely. "Teach you, I shall, how to make Qui-Gon's favorite cookies. Made them often when he was a Padawan, we did."  
  
"Quigee's favorite? Yay!" Obi-Wan clapped his hands, nearly toppling himself off the counter in his exuberance. "What do we need for the cookies?"  
  
Yoda smiled in spite of himself. "Flour first, small one. One of the most important ingredients in cookies, flour is."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded seriously, studiously filing that bit of knowledge away for future use. "Flour. Hum. I wonder where Quigee keeps the flour." More banging of cupboard doors ensued.  
  
Even though he knew where Qui-Gon kept the flour, Yoda stayed silent. It would be good for the child to do most of this himself, good for his self- confidence. Besides, he clearly wanted to do something nice for his bondmate.  
  
At length, Obi-Wan opened a high cupboard. "Aha! Flour!" he crowed. Before Yoda could caution him, he yanked the heavy sack off the shelf, and it fell to the counter with a solid thud. A geyser of white powder erupted out of the open end, liberally dusting the small Jedi Master.  
  
"Oops."  
  
Yoda sneezed.  
  
"Gosh, Master Yoda, I'm sorry. I didn't *mean* to spill." Grey-green eyes darted nervously around the kitchen as though searching for a solution to this latest problem. He smiled when his eyes lighted on the sink.  
  
"I'll clean you up, Master Yoda. Just a minute." Obi-Wan crawled along the counter to the sink and turned on the water. He grabbed the sprayer attachment and took aim, one eye squinched shut and a small pink tongue peeking out in concentration.  
  
Yoda's eyes widened, and his ears stood straight up in alarm. "No, no!" he said hastily. "Need a bath, I do not. Take a shower, I can, when back to my quarters I go. Thank you anyway, small one."  
  
Obi-Wan regarded the ghostly-looking Master dubiously. "Are you sure? Master Aronna always tells me to clean up a mess right after I make it."  
  
Very smart, Master Aronna is. Like her, I do. Good, it is, that you listen to her. But work quickly, we must, to get the cookies done for your bondmate. Leave the mess just this once, we can."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "Okay, if you're sure! What else do we need?"  
  
Yoda ran over the list of ingredients in his mind, considering the possibilities for mayhem inherent in each. "A large bowl, we will need," he said finally. "A large spoon for mixing, rolling pin, flat baking pans. Spoons for measuring, too. Find all of those, can you, hmm?"  
  
"Find them all, I will," Obi-Wan imitated Yoda with a cheeky grin.  
  
"Hrmpf! Get the rest of the ingredients and start the oven heating, I will." Accordingly, eggs, sugar sack, small tins of various spices and salt, and a small flask of molasses began floating through the kitchen to land safely on the counter.  
  
A tousled red head poked out of the large cupboard into which Obi-Wan had disappeared. "How big does the bowl need to be, Master Yoda?"  
  
"Big, yes! Biggest bowl Qui-Gon has, I think."  
  
"Right." Obi-Wan dove back into the cupboard. A moment later, a set of small hindquarters wriggled into view, accompanied by faint sounds of exertion. All of a sudden, there was rustle and clatter, and Obi-Wan dropped to the counter with a squeak, his flailing limbs launching a large steel bowl into the air. The bowl struck the opposite countertop with a tremendous clang, the force of its impact sending one of the eggs rolling off the edge and falling to the floor with a splat.  
  
"Oops."  
  
Yoda sighed, and surreptitiously assembled everything else they would need. Qui-Gon might appreciate the cookies, but he highly doubted that the young Jedi Master would like to have his kitchen trashed, however good the intentions.  
  
"Thank you, Obi-Wan. All ready to bake cookies, we are."  
  
Obi-Wan smiled sunnily, then froze as Yoda floated him through the air and deposited him on the other countertop. "Wow, neat!"  
  
"Reach the bowl, I cannot," Yoda said by way of explanation. "In charge of stirring, you are."  
  
Obi-Wan puffed out his small chest and wielded a large spoon, proud to be entrusted with the responsibility of stirring Quigee's cookies. "Yes, sir, Master Yoda, sir."  
  
Yoda's eyes twinkled. A measuring cup floated up in front of Obi-Wan. "Fill this four times with flour, small one, then once with sugar. Flour and sugar, very important, they are, if to make cookies, you wish."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded and carefully began dipping out flour and sugar. He managed to get most of it into the bowl. As if by magic, a sharp knife was summoned from a knife block, sliced through a block of shortening, then floated carefully back to the sink, away from the child perched on the counter.  
  
"The smaller piece, into the bowl it should go." Yoda wisely decided that he would take care of the egg.  
  
Obi-Wan picked up the chunk of slippery white shortening with both hands. He almost got it to the bowl, but just short of his goal, the brick squished out of his grip like a wet bar of soap. "Uh-oh." It squelched against a wall and started inching slowly towards the floor.  
  
"Oops."  
  
Yoda took a deep breath and begged the Force for patience. He recalled the knife and cut another chunk of shortening. "Squeeze less hard this time, you should."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded and very carefully carried the block of shortening to the bowl. He dropped it in with a cry of triumph, managing to splatter himself with a little egg and flour.  
  
Obi-Wan's face tensed with worry.  
  
"Worry not. Hurt the cookies, it will not, if missing a little egg they are," Yoda reassured him. "The egg and shortening, hold the cookies together, they do."  
  
"Like glue?"  
  
"Yes, Obi-Wan like glue. But taste better than glue, these things do."  
  
Obi-Wan giggled.  
  
"What else needs to go in the cookies, Master Yoda?"  
  
Another measuring cup floated over to him. "Fill this once with milk, once with molasses."  
  
"What's mol...molassasses?"  
  
"Molasses, small one. Dark, it is. Sticky. Very sweet. Use it for flavor, we will."  
  
"Dark??" Obi-Wan squeaked in dismay. They'd started learning about the Dark Side last week in meditation class.  
  
Yoda cackled. "Dark color, small one. Not Dark Side. Impossible, it is, for cookies to lead to the Dark Side, yes?"  
  
Obi-Wan giggled again. He picked up the heavy carafe of milk with both hands, tipping carefully and aiming for the measuring cup. He missed, and milk sloshed onto the floor, splashing against Yoda's robes.  
  
"Oops."  
  
Yoda's ears flattened, his legendary serenity wearing thin. One look at Obi-Wan's crestfallen expression, though, had him hurrying to reassure the boy. "Worry not, Obi-Wan. Helped clean off some of the flour, it did. Help you pour, I will, since so heavy, the milk container is."  
  
"Thanks, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan said, relieved.  
  
Together, they filled the cup with milk, and Obi-Wan poured it into the bowl, only splashing himself a little this time.  
  
"Pour the molasses yourself, you can," Yoda said. "As heavy as the milk jug, this container is not."  
  
"Okay." Obi-Wan worked the stopper out of the bottle and tilted it over the cup as Yoda shuffled over to the oven to start it heating.  
  
Obi-Wan waited. And waited. And nothing came out. He lifted the bottle up to one eye and peered in. "I think it's stuck, Master Yoda."  
  
"Moves very slowly, molasses does. Wait, you must," Yoda said without turning around.  
  
Still trying to see into the bottle, Obi-Wan gave it a vigorous shake. Sure enough, a dollop of the dark, sticky stuff oozed out of the mouth of it and dropped onto his cheek.  
  
"Oops."  
  
Yoda whirled around in time to see Obi-Wan drag a hand across his cheek, smearing the dark liquid along his cheekbone.  
  
"You were right, Master Yoda. It wasn't stuck," Obi-Wan said sheepishly.  
  
Yoda cackled again as Obi-Wan carefully poured out a cup of molasses and dumped it into the bowl.  
  
"Add the rest of the ingredients, I will. Need only very small amounts, we do."  
  
"Okay," Obi-Wan said as he watched pinches and dashes of other powders suddenly leap from their little pots and fly towards the mixing bowl.  
  
"Mix now, small one," Yoda said once everything was in the bowl.  
  
Obi-Wan laid into the batter with a vengeance, stirring furiously until he was out of breath and the counter, himself, and Master Yoda were speckled with bits of golden-brown dough.  
  
"Mixed enough, Master Yoda?"  
  
"Yes, yes," the old Master said quickly to forestall any more of Obi-Wan's energetic mixing. "Very good at mixing, you are. Very thorough."  
  
Obi-Wan beamed.  
  
Yoda levitated up until he could reach the counter, then took a generous handful of flour and spread it out along the surface. "Onto the flour, the dough should go."  
  
Obi-Wan obligingly dumped the dough out onto the counter.  
  
Yoda grinned at the expectant child. "Time to get hands dirty, it is."  
  
Obi-Wan giggled and plunged both hands into the dough, squishing it happily between his fingers. Yoda watched until he judged the dough had been kneaded sufficiently. The rolling pin floated over to Obi-Wan.  
  
"Now, roll it out flat, we must."  
  
Obi-Wan picked up the unfamiliar instrument and studied it for a moment. Apparently satisfied that he knew how it worked, he brandished it like a club, preparing to bash the cookie dough into submission.  
  
"No, no! Wait!" Yoda cried. "Works like this, it does." He gently took the rolling pin from the child and demonstrated its proper function.  
  
"Oh, I see. Like this?"  
  
Obi-Wan crawled around behind the dough, took hold of the rolling pin handles, and gave a tremendous shove. The roller went easily over the dough, then continued on over the side of the counter, taking the overbalanced little boy with it. One green-clawed hand shot out and grasped the back of Obi-Wan's tunic before he could fall to the floor.  
  
"Gently," Yoda admonished.  
  
"Oops."  
  
Between the two of them, they finally managed to get the dough rolled out and cut into circles. With great care, Obi-Wan arranged the circles on two cookie sheets. "Are we done?"  
  
"Yes, small one. Wait for them to bake, we must. Put them in the oven, I will, so that burn yourself, you do not."  
  
"Okay!"  
  
The pans of soft molasses cookies floated over towards the oven, then maneuvered inside.  
  
"Wow. We made a really big mess, Master Yoda."  
  
Yoda refrained from pointing out that Obi-Wan had hardly needed his help.  
  
"I'll clean it up!"  
  
Still perched on the counter, Obi-Wan spun around to start gathering up the various ingredients. He knocked up against the sack of sugar, sending it crashing to the floor and spilling all over the place.  
  
"Oops."  
  
Yoda sighed.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------  
  
Qui-Gon exited the conference room with relief. Of all his Masterly duties, he truly hated meetings. As a diplomat much in demand, however, he couldn't avoid the diplomatic subcommittee meeting. At least it was over, finally.  
  
As he paced through the halls, a furrow between his brows, he decided he'd stop by the crèche and visit Obi-Wan. Seeing Obi-Wan always made him feel better. As he recalled, it was the children's restday, so he wouldn't be interrupting any lessons. He changed direction and actually whistled as he headed towards the Children's Wing of the Temple. When he reached the crèche, he opened the doors to a hive of activity. Wet carpets and bedding were hanging from lines strung across the room, and a heap of paint- splattered clothing and linens waited in one corner to be taken to the laundry. Crèche Masters and crèchelings alike were scrubbing away at stains on the walls and floor.  
  
"Master Jinn?" a familiar voice asked, he turned to see a frazzled Master Aronna approaching him. "Is everything alright with Obi-Wan?"  
  
"Obi-Wan? I was just coming to visit him," Qui-Gon answered the woman who'd raised him in the crèche.  
  
Aronna blanched. "You mean he's not with you?" she gasped. "Oh dear. We had a bit of an accident earlier, and I'm afraid he slipped out during all the fuss. I was sure he'd go to you..."  
  
Qui-Gon's eyes went unfocused for a moment. "Don't worry, Master Aronna. He's fine. He probably did come looking for me, but I was in meetings all afternoon. In fact," he said, a grin growing on his face, "he's in my quarters with Master Yoda."  
  
"Master Yoda?? Oh, dear. I can just see the Council reprimand now."  
  
"No, no, don't worry. The old troll has taken a fancy to Obi-Wan. I wonder how he made out with an afternoon of babysitting. Well, you've got enough to do here. I'll keep Obi-Wan out of your way until this evening."  
  
"Thank you, Qui-Gon. I appreciate it." She turned back to supervise the clean-up efforts.  
  
As Qui-Gon strode towards the door, he was stopped by a small hand tugging at his robe. He turned to see two small human boys staring up at him with wide eyes. Aware that he looked even larger from their vantage point, he crouched down to address them.  
  
"Yes, children? What can I do for you?"  
  
"Um, Master Jinn, sir? We were wondering if Obi sent you to get us." The child had a hopeful expression on his face.  
  
Qui-Gon was puzzled. "Sent me to get you? Why, little one?"  
  
The other boy piped up. "He promised to teach us some new saber stuff if we helped him escape," he chirped blithely. Then a horrified expression came over his face. "Oh, no. I wasn't s'posed to tell."  
  
Qui-Gon looked at the two children, then at the mess in the crèche, then back at the two worried little faces in front of him.  
  
"You can't blame Obi-Wan," the first child said quickly. "He really misses you, 'specially on restdays when we don't have much to do. He just wanted to visit, but the Crèche Masters watch us awful close on restdays. He couldn't get away. So we helped."  
  
Qui-Gon glanced again at the wet, colorful mess and started to laugh. Only Obi-Wan... "What are your names, you young rascals?" he asked, his blue eyes twinkling.  
  
"I'm Garen," the first child said, "and this is Reeft."  
  
"Well, Garen and Reeft, I'm just on my way to collect Obi-Wan now. Would you like to come with me? I think all three of you need to hear about *proper* ways to ask to leave the crèche. And then maybe we could have a saber lesson, hmm? What do you say?"  
  
The boys' expressions went from worried to delighted in a heartbeat. "Oh please? Can we?" they chorused.  
  
"Yes, but first you have to *ask* Master Aronna's permission. Not escape."  
  
"Okay!" They hurried off and returned shortly with the Master in tow.  
  
"Qui? Are you sure you want to deal with these two as well?"  
  
Garen stared nervously at Qui-Gon, imploring the young Master with his eyes not to give anything away to Master Aronna.  
  
"No trouble at all, Master Aronna. They're Obi-Wan's friends, and all three of them could probably stand to be run around a training salle a few times."  
  
Master Aronna's eyes narrowed, then she grinned in sudden understanding. "Aha, yes. I do believe you're right," she said, deciding to let Qui-Gon handle this if he was so inclined.  
  
Qui-Gon extended a large hand to each of Obi-Wan's friends. "Let's go, boys. Obi-Wan is in my quarters with Master Yoda."  
  
The two boys' eyes went wide. "With *Master Yoda?!*"  
  
"Yes. Master Yoda was my master, you know."  
  
"Wow!" they breathed as they left the crèche.  
  
It didn't take them long to reach Qui-Gon's quarters, and the young Jedi was pleasantly surprised to be greeted with the sweet scent of freshly baked molasses cookies. "Master?" he called as they rounded the corner into the kitchen. His eyes widened when he saw the mess. "What the Force...?"  
  
A broom and dustpan were moving across the floor of their own volition, apparently guided by a colossally irritated Master Yoda, who stood off to one side with his arms folded. The little Master was covered with flour and sugar, his robes splashed with milk.  
  
Obi-Wan was on all fours up on one of the countertops, scrubbing dutifully at the sugar, egg, and flour splattered there. He looked up when Qui-Gon came into view.  
  
"Quigee!" he cried delightedly as he leapt off the counter.  
  
Qui-Gon deftly caught his sticky little bondmate in mid-air. "What have you been up to today, Imp?" he asked, trying to be stern, but unable to rein in his smile. He took Obi-Wan's damp cloth and gently wiped the molasses off the boy's soft cheek.  
  
Obi-Wan flung his arms around Qui-Gon's neck. "Master Yoda and me made your favorite cookies! He said you had meetings, and you always get unhappy after meetings, so I said we should do something nice for you. To make you feel better."  
  
Qui-Gon's eyes softened, and he hugged Obi-Wan tightly. "Thank you, Imp. You take such good care of me."  
  
Obi-Wan looked down. "Oh hiya, Garen! Hi Reeft! Can they have cookies, too, Quigee?"  
  
Qui-Gon sighed. "Yes, Imp, they can have cookies. Then you need clean clothes, and then we'll all head for a training salle for saber lessons, how about that?"  
  
"Oh, goody!" Obi-Wan wriggled happily in Qui-Gon's arms as Garen and Reeft echoed his approval of the plan.  
  
The young Master turned to thank Yoda for watching his bondmate all afternoon. "Master..."  
  
Yoda cut him off with one raised claw. One ear twitched, sending a puff of powdery flour into the air. "Owe me one, you do," Yoda said firmly.  
  
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Yes, Master."  
  
Fin 


End file.
